


The Wolf Among Us AU

by givebackandlivehappy



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-08-29 07:32:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8480950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givebackandlivehappy/pseuds/givebackandlivehappy
Summary: THIS STORY WAS JUST UPDATED! IF YOU HAVE PREVIOUSLY READ THE CHAPTERS, I HIGHLY RECOMMEND YOU RE-READ THEM BEFORE THE NEXT ONE COMES!!!!!"Once upon a time in New York City there lived a community of magical and fanatastic creatures called Faetown. The Fae who live there arrived hundreds of years ago, after they were exiled from their Homelands.Through the use of a magic spell made from primroses, called Glamour, they have protected their secret community from the mundane world.Sheriff Bog King protects them from each other."





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> -Fairies disguise their wings as tattoos on their backs, necks, or waists  
> -Plum is trapped in the magic mirror b/c of her betrayal of code (love potion), her Plumeths make the glamours  
> -Bog was originally the king of the goblins back then  
> -Because of how cruel the place non-conforming fae go is, people nicknamed the place “The Forest” (referencing the cruelty of the kingdom Bog ruled over)  
> -Mundies: human, the mundane

Once upon a time in New York City there lived a community of magical and fanatastic creatures called Faetown. The Fae who live there arrived hundreds of years ago, after they were exiled from their Homelands.

Through the use of a magic spell made from primroses, called Glamour, they have protected their secret community from the mundane world.

Sheriff Bog King protects them from each other

*

The sheriff sat in the backseat of a speeding cab, resting his head on his fist. His blue eyes, tired from sleepless nights, scanned the buildings that passed by. With each one, he told himself that he would be home soon. This mantra continued until he reached his destination, causing him to inhale and exhale deeply in preparation for what lie before him.

The vehicle slowed and stopped in front of a small apartment building: three-stories high and completely composed of brick. He opened the door and stepped out, brushing his fingers through his short, black hair and adjusting the tie around his white-collared shirt. He looked down at his watch and assumed it was sometime after midnight, despite his what his watch said.

*Damn thing always stops…*

He opened the double-doors of the building to find a short, frog-looking creature hanging its arm on the wooden stairs’ banister and looking up with a worried expression. A loud crash was heard from the third floor, causing the walls to shake violently. The sheriff glanced up at the ceiling and then back to the creature, now trembling.

“Thang.”

"Oh no...” The creature's expression changed to regret as he heard his name. He turned around with a forced smile that showed his uneven teeth.

“Sire! I mean…um…Sheriff. I know I don't look human. I just- I just stepped out of my apartment for just a second to see, um- To see what's going on up there.” He paused to give a real smile. “I’ll get a glamour first thing in the morning, I promise.”

“Thang, this is unacceptable. The last three times Ah've come over here, you've been out of glamour. If you can’t afford to look human, you’re going to The Forest. It’s as simple as that.”

“Sheriff, please-” Bog’s frustrated expression cut him off.

“Go see the Plumeths and get a glamour.”

“Sheriff, our account is almost empty…and Stuff says that quality of the spell goes down, but the rates keep going up..." His voice began to trail off, causing Bog to exhale loudly.

“You know Ah don't make the rules. Ah'm sorry.”

Thang nodded and looked down at his feet. 

“Ah can’t give you a free pass on this; there’s just too much at stake. Whatever it costs, it’s worth it. You don’t want me catching you out of glamour again.” 

Thang started to speak, but another crash was heard from upstairs, resulting in a small T. V. falling from a window. He winced at the sound and covered his ears.

“He's at it again...”

Bog looked up at the staircase and stretched out his arms above his head.

“I should probably handle this.” Thang turned to watch him as he started walking up the stairs.

“Thank you, Sheriff.”

“Thang?” a gruff voice called out. “You had better come inside before those two start fighting again!” A short, stout, but well-proportioned, goblin sticked her head out of an apartment door, looking worried.

Thang jumped at the sight of his girlfriend's face and ran to the door. 

“Coming!”

*

As Bog reached the last steps, he heard a familiar voice shout at the end of the hall.

"C'mon, you know who I am. Hey! Look at me!”

“Just stop, okay? You’re drunk!” 

At the sound of another voice, Bog started for the last door of the floor.

*Jesus, how much has he had to drink tonight?*

“Take a look! Take a good look! Know who I am now, baby?”

“Let go of me!”

As Bog reached the door, he knocked to try to start the confrontation smoothly. When he heard the sound of someone being slapped, and a female voice grunt in response, he shook off the feeling of intrusion, and lifted up his foot to kick the door open.

“Fine then! You're gonna know who I am now!”

The door revealed a tall, blonde, and good-looking man standing in the middle of the room and glaring at a woman leaning on a wooden table for support. The woman had short, dark hair, with newly-formed bruises on her arms and face. He started for the woman to hit her again, but Bog jumped in and pinned him to the wall.

“Calm the fuck down, Roland!” He struggled against Bog’s arms as he tried to get out. The woman stood up and held her head. As she did, Roland pushed harder against Bog to get to her again.

“Hey! I said calm dow-” Roland bucked his head forward, causing him to head-butt Bog and break free of Bog’s grasp. The sheriff staggered back as the blonde man cracked his knuckles. 

“What are you gonna do?” Bog wiped the back of his hand on his mouth. 

“Roland, Ah’m going'te break yer fuckin’ face if you dorn’t stop actin' like this…” 

Roland sneered. “That’s not how it went last time you cockroach-”

“This isn’t last time.” Bog cut him off.

Roland grunted as he lunged at Bog, fist aiming for Bog’s face. The sheriff grabbed it and twisted it behind Roland’s back. Watching for Roland’s other hand, Bog twisted it further and waited for Roland to simmer down. 

“Get off me!” Roland made a quick movement to grab at Bog’s head with his free hand, but the latter caught it and rammed him into a dresser beside the woman. Various bottles of cologne and hair gel from the top of it fell off and broke at the impact of Roland’s head and shoulders. Bog leaned over to breathe deeply.

“You’ve never been good in a fight without yer sword.” He turned to face the woman as she grabbed her purse from the floor. 

“You should probably get out of here before this gets any worse…”

“I’m not leaving until I get what’s mine.” She crossed her arms and pulled out a compact, slightly adjusting the pink ribbon tied around her neck.

“Yer not geddin’ shit until...” The blonde's words slurred as he tried to stand up. He barely put any weight on one leg when he fell over onto his side. Bog turned his head to Roland and glared.

“I’ll deal with you later.” He looked back at the woman.

“Shit…” She noticed the bruises on the side of her face, quickly dabbing a powder puff over each one. 

"What exactly is going on here? Ah know dreamboat over here had way too much to drink, but..." The woman opened her mouth, as if she wanted to say something, but she paused. 

“These lips are sealed.” His eyebrows knit together as she looked down at the floor and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Well, why was he hitting you?"

“Maybe you should ask him that.”

“I could, but Ah asked you first. You never know what assholes like that are going to say to get themselves out of trouble."

The woman inhaled and exhaled softly and glanced at the floor.

“He asked if I recognized him, I said I didn’t. He started beating on me. Then you showed up, and started beating on him. That about cover it?”

“You really don’t recognize me then, huh? Well I’ll tell ya. I’m the fearless Knight Roland. I’m the one that saved my Marianne from this monster. Without me, the Fairy Kingdom’s only heirs to the throne would have been trapped within the dungeons of the Dark Forest. That’s who I am you bitch!” 

“HEY! That's enough! If you're going'te keep actin' like this, you’ll end up with a broken face!” 

“BRING IT COCKROACH!”

Bog lunged for him, aiming for his face. Roland reached out and wrapped his hands around Bog’s neck. As he was trying to land a good punch on him, Roland tightened his grip. The sheriff's vision blurred and all he could see was Roland’s perfect hair and teeth. Bog began to close his eyes, but when they opened, his eyes were a bright blue and his teeth started growing sharp. Roland widened his eyes and let go of Bog’s neck. As Roland started backing up, the sheriff stared at him, more violently than before, and punched him square in the face. Roland toppled over onto the stained floor with a thud. 

*

After most of the cop cars had left, Bog walked down the stairs of the apartment complex. He opened the double doors to find the woman standing on the side of the front steps: arms folded across her chest, and her leg propped up behind her on the cement wall.

“What’re you still doing here?”

“Some cop stopped me to answer questions...” She turned her head to him. “And I tried to grab some cash off of dreamboat while they tried to put him in the back of one of the cars.”

“Maybe Ah should arrest you.” He crossed his arms.

“Please, all us Fae know that we get what we deserve, even if we never receive it.” She pushed off of the wall and stood beside him. “You should understand that just based off of your history, Your Majesty.” She curtsied and laughed a little as she stood back up.

Bog raised an eyebrow and watched a car pass by.

“Were you alright back there?” She paused when looked back at her. “I mean…your eyes…and the teeth…you’re not really supposed to do that are you?”

“Not if Ah can avoid it.” He put his hands in his pockets and watched the last cop drive off. 

The women nodded slightly and started to walk down the sidewalk. As she was about to turn the corner, she grabbed a cigarette from the carton in her bag and a lighter.

“Shit…just…come on!”

“Here…” Bog took out a lighter from his pocket and lit it for her.

She inhaled and blew out a puff of smoke. 

“Thanks…” she said with a half-smile and flicked off the ash.

“Why were you here? Ah mean Ah know why, but um... why dreamboat? Especially if all of Faetown knows of his record.” Bog put the lighter back into his pocket. 

Her eyes widened a little and then closed tightly. 

“These lips are sealed…sorry.”

“If you don’t answer my questions, I can’t help you…”

“I’m answering them the best that I can.” She took her cigarette again and blew out the smoke heavily toward the street, filling the space and silence between them. Bog looked down at the sidewalk. 

“How much did he owe you?”

“A hundred…”

“Ah’m guessing it’d be bad if you showed up empty-handed.”

She paused again, but turned around and smiled. 

“I’ll be fine.” Bog reached into his pocket to grab his wallet.

"Here-"

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine. You’ve done enough. Really.” She cut him off and smiled. 

“You got me out of a bad situation back there…thanks, really.”

"It's mah job..." The two stared at each other for a moment. She stepped toward him.

“Hey…I need to tell you something.”

“What?"

She stepped closer and put her hand on his shoulder to get closer to his ear.

“You’re not as bad as everyone says you are.” she whispered. As he turned his head a bit, she kissed his cheek and let go. He watched her start back down the sidewalk and noticed a butterfly tattoo on the base of her neck. 

“I’ll see you around…Sheriff.”

As she walked off, he pulled out his lighter and carton of cigarettes. He tapped the bottom and took the lose one out with his mouth. He flicked on the lighter and walked on to the apartment he called home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is interested in beta reading this, or just correcting any mistakes, just leave a comment and I'll get back to you asap!


	2. The Light Fields

For the part of town they were located, the Light Fields' luxury apartments were fairly nice. The outside of the building was guarded by a very large gate made of stone pillars and cast-iron bars; a little much for Bog's taste, but it kept the Mundies out.

As he opened the gate, which caused a loud and very annoying squeak, Bog paused to take in where he had ended up: cut grass, a concrete pathway to the glass doors, various shrubberies and trees, and a brass plaque engraved with the phrase ‘STAY OFF THE GRASS!’. 

*What d'ye know? Dagda wasted money on another useless plaque...*

He shook his head to get his mind off of his “boss”; which was a stretch to call him that anyway. He would get an earful from him even if he hadn’t knocked knocked someone out. He groaned, remembering the fact that the mayor was not a fan of his city being protected by a night owl. It was about 3 a.m.

As he began to walk towards the doors, Bog heard a faint rustle of leaves behind him. He turned his head slightly to listen for anything else, but all he could hear was the faint whistle of wind. He took a couple steps, and heard the rustling again. A quick flash of blonde hair and a familiar face ducking behind a tree caused him to smirk. He angled his body toward the tree and walked closer and crossed his arms. 

“You can't hide back there forever...” 

There was a short pause between his words and more rustling of leaves, but he managed to convince whoever to come out. 

“Alright, alright…”

A pair of white sandals came out from behind the tree, attached to a petite blonde woman. Her almost pixie-cutted hair was sticking out in every direction, as if she had just woken up or tried to brush out hairspray to no avail, and her orangey-pink dress and sweater combo was in disarray.

“Dawn.”

“Hi, Boggy.” She greeted him with a small smile. 

“I really wasn’t expecting anyone to be out here so late... Well, you maybe; but I-"

“Why’d ya hide when Ah walked up?” She stopped and looked up at him innocently.

“I, um... I didn’t know who you were.” She breathed deeply. “You can’t be too careful these days…”

“No, you can’t.” She looked down at her watch and sighed a little.

“Ugh, now I’m late.” She let her arm fall to her side as she started toward the gate. She stopped as she heard the squeak.

“Hey, Bog? Can you promise me something?" She turned to look at him, tears starting to form in her eyes. 

“Promise me you won’t tell Sunny you saw me. He worries too much as it is and-”

“Dawn, whatever it is, it’s between you and him. Ah’m staying out of it-” He stopped at the sight of Dawn's reddening face.

“Fine…Ah promise.” She exhaled and stepped to the other side of the gate.

“I’ll explain all of this to you later; but I have to go…” She started to walk away, stopping for a moment to look back at him. 

“Thank you Bog... really.” 

*

The lobby of the building was the complete opposite of the outside. At first, you see intimidating grays, compressed greenery and official signs; but when you enter the lobby, you see various pieces of mahogany furniture, ornate decorations, and a general mood of 'you're not good enough to be here'. Well, maybe the inside and outside had one thing in common.

Two elevator shafts sat adjacent to the front doors, with two suits of armor standing between them, collecting dust. It was unknown whether or Mayor Dagda had actually worn said suits back in the homeland; but he took great pride in knowing that they were there to showcase his greatness.

*Lousy pieces of scrap metal is what they are...*

One of the elevators dinged upon its arrival and opened as Bog entered the complex. He stepped into it, hearing footsteps running down one of the nearby sets of stairs. A short, dark-skinned man came from it, running past the elevator as it was starting to close. When he saw Bog, his face lit up.

“Bog! Hey!” He stepped to the elevator and stuck his hand in the door, causing it to re-open.

“Sunny.” Bog nodded, hoping that it wouldn’t lead to a conversation.

“Have you seen Dawn? She said she had to go drop off a package for Marianne, but when I asked her about it, she left.” His voice was tired from stress and sleep-deprivation. Bog put his hands in his pockets.

“Nope. Ah haven’t seen 'er.” He shook his head and kept a straight face.

“Oh…okay. Have a nice night!” He gave Bog a quick smile and backed up, putting a hand to his forehead as he went through the glass doors of the lobby.

“Damnit. Something’s going on…”

*

The elevator dinged again as it arrived to its next destination, opening its doors. Bog trudged out, placing a hand to his temple, trying to rub away the headache that was forming. He reached his apartment, number 204, and pulled out his keys; almost dropping them from a sudden shrill voice coming from inside. He took a deep breath and prepared himself for who was behind the door. 

He opened it to find his mother: short, gangly, and full of energy, despite it being the early hours of the morning. She had her frizzed red hair tied back in a ponytail, and had multiple newspapers and books sprawled out in front of her on the floor. 

“Mam? Ah’m home…” He closed and locked the door, and placed the keys on a small table beside it. As Bog took the receiver off the phone base, his mother came over showering him with hugs.

“Aww, my Boggy’s home!” She gave him a final hug and went back to the floor. She picked up her newspapers and opened up a window in the kitchen.

“Off I go!” She then proceeded to jump out of the window and onto the fire escape leading to the roof.

Although he originally had disagreed, Bog’s mother, Griselda, decided she would live with him until she found a place of her own. After that didn’t happen, Bog told her she could stay in his apartment only when he wasn’t there, or when he invited her. The only issue with this was that Griselda had a tendency to forget her Glamours, or where to find them. Various threats were made to send her to The Forest if she didn’t get her act together, but Bog told her just to ignore them and spend her free time on the roof of The Light Fields.

When he was sure his mother had left, Bog closed the window, leaving it open only a little to let in fresh air. He walked over to the sink in the kitchen and turned on the faucet, filling his hands up with water and splashing it onto his face. He turned it off and wiped his sleeve across his eyes and forehead, looking at his reflection in the small mirror his mother placed there. The unshaven stubble on his face made him look more tired than he already was, and the disheveled look of his white button down and tie didn’t help either.

*God, Ah’m hideous…*

He dried the rest of his face and walked toward the desk his mother had decided to set up while he was gone. Various manila folders and post-it notes lay scattered on the top, while a few office supplies sat in small containers on the corner. Bog opened up one of the folders and looked it over.

*Roland’s file…* He scowled. *Ah never trusted him…*

As fatigue and the need for sleep started to wash over him, Bog made his way to a large chair seated by the only other window in his apartment. He sat down, and stretched out his long legs onto the floor. He placed his hand on his temple again, rubbing until the ache was almost gone. With his head laid back on the edge of the chair, Bog drifted off into a well-needed sleep.

At least he would have if he wasn’t interrupted by a loud banging on his door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is interested in beta reading this, or just correcting any mistakes, just leave a comment and I'll get back to you asap!


	3. Heading Straight to Murder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a little late! I hope you guys like it!

*At least Ah got about an hour of sleep…*

Bog sat there in his chair for a minute and contemplated actually getting up. His hand involuntarily came to his forehead and rubbed his temples. As he started to drift off again, the banging on his door came again, louder and more urgent then before.

*Fine, fine. Ah’m coming…*

He stood up from his chair and started towards the door, stretching out his arms and back.

Bog adjusted his tie and opened the door to see his partner and girlfriend, Marianne, standing there. He smiled slightly, but his expression changed to concern when he saw that her face filled with uncertainty. She turned her eyes to his.

“Bog!”

“Marianne, what's goin' on?” His accent noticeable as he furrowed his brow at her uneasiness.

“Just, follow me.”

They walked down the long hallway and turned the corner to the next. Marianne’s brow was furrowed, but her eyes were filled with a fear Bog had never seen before. Her short brown hair was tussled, similar to how her sister's looked earlier, and her dark makeup was faded as if she had tried to wipe it off with the sleeve of her black blazer. They continued down the next hallway, but there were no words exchanged between them. Finally, Bog spoke.

“Tough Girl?” He tried a tender voice first, trying not to stir up and unneeded arguments. She answered with nothing but silence.

“Marianne?!” She was obviously preoccupied by her thoughts and needed to be woken up. She turned her head sharply.

“What?!”

Bog gave her a concerned expression.

“Sorry…I’m…” She stopped and shook her head, her hands on her temples. After a few seconds, she looked up at him and kept walking.

“What is it?”

“What happened? Where are we going?”

“We’re going out in front out the building.” They turned the corner. 

“I just can’t get into it this second….” She stopped in front of an elevator, pressed the down button, and looked at her shoes.

“We’ll talk outside, okay?” Bog nodded and stepped inside the open compartment after it dinged upon its arrival.

*

The elevator stopped as it reached the lobby. Marianne adjusted her blazer and pencil skirt as she got off, turning her head to the glass doors and slowly walking out of them. On the front steps of the building, a large security jacket was thrown. It was bulky and wrinkled, clearly covering something hidden underneath.

Bog followed Marianne out the doors, and stepped in front of her when she stopped. She nodded towards the jacket and looked up at him, nonverbally telling him that he needed to see for himself. 

He went down each of the concrete steps, minding the jacket, and turned to face it. He crouched down and looked up at Marianne, who had her arms folded across her chest. He took an edge of the jacket in his hand, and pulled it up revealing what was underneath.

He saw her dark hair first; then her smudged makeup, and the pink ribbon stuffed in her mouth. It was the decapitated head of the woman, laying on the steps in a small puddle of blood. Bog let go of the jacket and looked away, letting out a faint breath of unbelief. Marianne stepped closer to him.

“Did you know her?” Her voice quiet and sincere.

“Is she- She’s not a Mundy, is she?” She glanced at the head and looked into Bog’s eyes. He shook his head and placed it in his palm.

“I thought I knew everyone in Faetown-” Marianne furrowed her brow and shifted her weight to one side.

“Ah met her tonight." He glanced back at the woman. "Ah got a call from Thang that Roland was acting up again. When Ah got there, he attacked her and Ah stepped in. She ended up okay, but he was taken to the police station.” Her eyes widened.

“You don’t think he-” He held up his hand to stop her.

“Ah don’t think anything yet.”

“It’s just terrible…” Marianne took the small steps and sat down next to Bog, facing away from the head.

"It took me a second to realize what I was even looking at…”

Bog turned his head to her.

“Did you see anyone?"

“No. No one…”

“No cabs? No voices? Mundies?”

She shook her head. 

“I would remember if I heard something…” He nodded and stood up, cracking his neck.

“Bog…" She stood up. "Did one of us do this?” 

“There hasn’t been a murder in Faetown in a long time…” Bog pulled out his carton of cigarettes and took one in his mouth.

“All the more reason we shouldn’t start a panic before we know what’s going on.” 

She glanced up and noted the few Mundies walking by on the sidewalk farthest from complex.

“You’re more than welcome to look longer…” She took a few steps toward the gate. “…but we don't have much time before people start coming through here.”

Bog lit the cigarette and put his lighter back in his pocket. As he crouched back down, he closed the woman’s eyelids with his fingers, trying his best not to smudge the remainder of her makeup; Marianne put a hand to her mouth. 

He gave his attention to the ribbon shoved in the woman’s mouth, and attempted to carefully remove it. The ribbon wasn’t stained or ripped, but perfectly intact as if it was removed from her neck before she was decapitated. The only thing odd about the ribbon was that there was a small ring tied to the end of the it. Bog held it up to show Marianne.

“There’s some kind of symbol here.” He pointed the engraving on the top of the silver band: It was a primrose surrounded by three small hearts. 

“I don’t recognize it…”

“Neither do Ah…” Bog’s eyes went to the cut on the woman’s neck.

"Marianne, look at this." His voice was filled with curiosity. 

"I've never seen a cut so..." She paused. "...perfect." He turned his head to face her.

"Magical or non?”

“Well at this point, it could be either one. If it was done non-magically, whatever did this would have to be extremely sharp. But if it were done with magic-" 

"We would spend weeks trying to figure out who bewitched what." Bog leaned forward a bit and inhaled through the cigarette. Marianne looked at the head again and turned away.

“We should move her before anyone shows up.” Bog nodded and blew out a puff of smoke before dropping it on the concrete and putting it out with his shoe.

“I’m going to have to tell him about this.” She pressed a hand to her temple and sighed. Bog reached for the jacket and draped it over his arm, placing a hand on her shoulder as she rubbed her headache away.

“Dagda’s going to find out anyways-”

“You know what? He’s not what’s important.” She turned to face him. 

“We need to figure out who this girl was, so we can find whoever did this…” Bog nodded again as he watched her walk to the doors.

“I’m going to head up to the office before anything else happens..."

"I’ll meet you there.” 

Bog watched her exit and walk onto the elevator that arrived. He glanced down at the head and closed his eyes, dropping the jacket on top of it as he walked inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is horrible, but it was all I could think of...
> 
> If anyone is interested in beta reading this, or just correcting any mistakes, just leave a comment and I'll get back to you asap!


	4. Getting Down to Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter than I wanted it to be, but something's better than nothing. I'll try to post as frequently as possible.

The next morning, although expected to be tiring for Bog, did not go over smoothly. As he was about to open the door to the business office, one of the glamoured brownies started making comments about how they had been standing outside of the door for half an hour causing many other glamoured Fae to get worked up. Bog had managed to calm them down, and answer a few of the question directed at the mayor, but a few of them were still upset. When he finally opened the door, he heard two voices arguing, progressively getting more heated. 

The business office was an unending cave of various objects ranging from suits of armor, books on magic and potions, and histories of all of the Fae who ever lived in Faetown. In the middle of the room sat a large wooden desk, three chairs, and a few of the many bookshelves residing there. 

Marianne stood in front of the mayor, clad in her usual attire: dark blazer and pencil skirt, deep purple blouse, and matching heels. Her smokey eye makeup and berry-colored lips made her look like a dark queen about to slaughter the enemy, taking her expression into account. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest, and her eyes were forward; she did sneak a glance at Bog when he entered to briefly greet him. 

Mayor Dagda, like Marianne, was dressed in his usual professional attire: grey suit jacket and trousers, black dress shoes and tie, dark grey vest, and a white button-down. His greying hair was combed back, and his short beard and goatee were properly trimmed. 

“…and now your tell me there’s a killer on the loose?!” Dagda’s voice now louder than Bog had heard before. Marianne said something in response, obviously sarcastic judging by the way Dagda reacted.

“The last thing we need from the people of Faetown is hysteria. Do you understand that?”

“Yes! Of course I do, but-”

“Do not interrupt me Marianne!”

“You asked me a question! Am I not allowed to answer them anymore?”

“Stop changing the subject! 

“Dad, I told you this as soon as I could. It's not like I can just call you from your pristine penthouse at 5 o'clock in the morning expecting you to be ready to solve a murder case!” The mayor pinched the bridge of his nose and let out and exasperated sigh.

“I am not blaming you or Bog. This is just- This is just awful..." Bog stepped up to Dagda's desk.

“It's been a long time since a murder has happened in Faetown. What we need to do is find any possible leads or suspects before we start blaming each other." He sat down in one of the chairs, glancing at the other two. Dadga followed and sat down at his desk, leaning on the armrest of his chair and finally seeming to calm down.

"Have you anything yet?" 

"Yes! We thought we should look in the books for both her and the symbol on the ring we found in her- um..." She paused and cleared her throat. "On her person." 

"I see." He stood up and opened one of the drawers in his desk, taking out a small briefcase. 

"It's not much, but it's all we have." He closed the drawer and made his way to the door. 

"You two need to solve this case as quickly and quietly as possible. The last thing we need is all of Faetown knowing there’s a killer amongst us.” He opened the door and slammed it shut, leaving Bog and Marianne alone. Bog crossed his arms and looked down at her. 

“Well that could’ve gone better, but at least he didn't blame us...” Marianne put her hands on her hips and looked up at him. 

"But he was! Before you got here, he was going on and on about 'how it's our job to protect the citizens of Faetown and that your recklessness has gotten one of us killed!" She began to pace around the other chair. 

“I guess I should of listened to the both of us and waited to talk to him until we had a better idea of what we're dealing with..." 

"Ah wasn't going' to say Ah told ye so..." He adjusted his tie and placed his hands around her shoulders, smirking a bit. "But at least he hasn't heard about Roland yet."

“He's just an asshole who gets what he deserves.” She leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He hugged her back. 

“But it does help that he got totally beat up by the best guy in this whole city.” She smiled into his chest as they hugged, only coming back from their moment when a faint squeak was heard from behind one of the bookcases.

“Oh!” Marianne turned to face the where it was heard.

“He’s gone now!” As she called, a furry and slender creature with white fur emerged from the behind the line-up of furniture. It scampered over to the desk, jumped on top of it, and smiled at the two of them. 

“Don’t worry, Imp. He won’t be back for a while now.” Bog lifted up his hand and made a fist, pointing it at the creature. It responded with a fist-bump.

Despite having the resources to, Imp had never used a glamour in his life; it was easier to stay in his natural form, than to alter his appearance for the approval of some Mundies. The only hard part of not using glamours was that Imp couldn’t talk. He could write and sign in many languages though, which made him valuable in the eyes of the mayor. So instead of sending him to The Forest, Imp was made the official scribe and book-keeper of Faetown.

“Okay, Imp. Would you please bring the books of Fae to us?”

He gave a quick nod and scampered off into the labyrinth of relics while Marianne turned to face Bog again.

“There’s bound to be some information on that girl in them.”

“Maybe we should ask Plum.” Bog muttered, gesturing to a large mirror beside the line-up of bookcases.

“Ah mean she is reliable, and can’t do anything while she’s in there…” Marianne glanced over at it, and looked back at Bog.

“If you think we should, then okay.” She smiled and followed him over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who read this chapter before June 11th, 2017, you probably noticed I changed a lot of stuff in this chapter (specifically Dagda).
> 
> When I decided to come back to this story, I re-read everything, and noticed that he was portrayed in a way I didn't originally want. So, I changed a bunch of his dialogue (along with everyone else's) and came up with this! 
> 
> Another chapter should hopefully be coming soon, so please subscribe for updates!
> 
> -Becky 
> 
> If anyone is interested in beta reading this, or just correcting any mistakes, just leave a comment and I'll get back to you asap!


	5. Finding Faith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so so much for supporting this series!!!!! I hope you all like this next chapter! <3

The jewel-encrusted mirror currently residing in the business office of The Light Fields was your typical magic mirror: it could show the user the whereabouts of a certain someone, give them knowledge on any magical or non-magical relic, and provide them with directions on the nearest and best glamours in the world. However, as most extraordinary things do, the mirror’s powers came at a price. The user would gain all of these things, but would have to go through a very irritating and energetic fairy first. Her name was Plum. 

Bog and Marianne wandered over to the front of the mirror, exchanging a final glance before Bog raised his fist and knocked three times. As soon as his hand left the glass, it began to fog and emit a light blue haze over the floor. The two stepped back as a figure appeared in the mirror, back to them, clad in shawls of varying colors and amounts of glitter. She appeared to be organizing the many books and objects of Fae inside of the mirror when Bog cleared his throat. She turned around to face them, only to frown when she recognized where the sound came from.

“Oh. Good morning Sheriff.” Bog crossed his arms.

“Plum.” 

“What a way to greet an ally! No ‘Hello, Plum’, or ‘Gee Plum, you’re doing a great job!’, or even a smile for God’s sake!” She placed the back of her hand on her forehead. “How can I survive in such horrid living conditions?”

Bog rolled his eyes and turned to Marianne, who had her head in her hand. She looked up and forced a smile. 

“Good morning, Plum. Sorry to summon you this early, but we have a problem-”

“Oh, it’s quite alright. I was already working. It’s not everyday that someone gets their head chopped off in Faetown!” She spun around in the mirror, making sparks and glitter shoot out from her fingertips. Marianne knit her eyebrows together and opened her mouth to speak, but Plum cut her off again.

“And don’t ask me how I know that, because you’re not going to believe me anyway. So just go ahead and ask me whatever questions you have so I can get back to my Plumeths.”

Marianne crossed her arms and glanced at Bog. He shrugged and went back to Dagda’s desk, pulling out the ring found the previous night and a few pictures of what remained of the woman.

“All I need you to do is stay summoned until we find some answers on who that woman was. Can you do that for us?”

Plum turned around and mumbled some numbers and words to herself, turning back sharply after a few seconds. 

“Oh, why not? I guess I can spare a few minutes to aid in a murder case.” She spun around again and laughed wildly. “THIS IS GOING TO BE FUN!”

*

“God damnit!” Bog slammed a book shut and rubbed his temples, causing dust to fly all over the mayor’s desk. Imp had finally returned with the last few books of Fae and the search for the woman was not going smoothly. 

Bog, Marianne, and Imp had already gone through half of the thirty-five volumes without a single clue as to who she was, causing Bog to groan. He opened another book only to slam it shut again, eliciting a squeak from Imp. Marianne coughed and waved the dust out of her face

“Calm down, Bog. We will find something. It just takes a while.”

“No shit.” He slumped down in one of the chairs and re-opened one of the books. “Are ye sure Plum hasn’t found anything yet?”

Marianne exhaled loudly.

“She asked for a few of the books, a glance at the symbol on the ring, and that she would come back once she was sure of what she found.” She turned a page the book she was skimming. “Lord knows how long that’ll-”

“MARIANNE!” 

Plum appeared in the mirror again, causing Marianne to jump, Imp to squeak again, and Bog to glare at her. 

“What is it Plum?” He grunted.

“I didn’t say your name, did I?” She gave a ‘hmmph’ sound and turned to Marianne who had rushed over. “Can I see that symbol on the ring again? I may have an idea about what it might mean.”

“Yes, of course! Bog?” He took the ring resting on the table in his hand and tossed it to her. She caught it and presented it to Plum. She giggled.

“YES! I was right!” Marianne pushed the books aside and brought over a chair, sitting directly in front of the mirror. 

“What did you find?” Plum smirked.

“THE ANSWER TO WHO SHE WAS!” She waved the group over and began searching through the collection of books behind her. She pulled out an old and brown-leather covered book and opened it, turning the pages frantically.

“AH-HA! I FOUND IT!” She turned the book around to show the other three. “That ring is the symbol of the Love-Dusters!”

“You’re kidding.” Bog raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms. Imp squeaked and laid down underneath the chair.

“Nope! She must’ve been a descendant of one of the original members!” Marianne  
eyed both of them.

“I’m sorry, the what now?” Plum brought the book back to her eyes.

“The Love-Dusters were an ancient group of Fae who were obsessed with the power of love potions. They would illegally develop and distribute the potions to anyone they thought needed it, dusting them with the spell to make them happier.”

She lowered the book and stared at Marianne. 

“They did this, however, even to those unaware of the circumstances.”

“So they just made people fall in love with each other without consent?” Marianne sat on the edge of the chair.

“Exactly. They would lure in their victims and dust them, wrecking havoc on social classes, civic duties, among other things.”

She slammed the book shut and placed it back on the shelf behind her.

“Anyway, it’s not hard to believe that many people were against this; so the Love-Dusters created a series of symbols to pick each other out in daily life: a primrose surrounded by three hearts. Each member had their own version, so I’m not surprised that the one you two found is a bit different than those shown in here.”

“So what you’re saying…” Bog shifted his weight onto one leg. “…is that that woman was a descendant of a cult member who engaged in illegal practices of potion-making?” 

Plum paused.

“Yes. That is exactly what I’m saying.” 

“Jesus.” Marianne sat back and rested her head in her hand.

“Would the Love-Dusters even be in the books?” Imp squeaked and rushed over to the table, opening up a tattered book and flipping through the pages until he found a large family tree.

Bog walked over and grabbed the book, patting Imp on the head.

“Let’s see…” He paced around the chair. “Goblins, half-breeds, fairies, witches… and cults, there!” 

He pointed at a small section of the image that read ‘Cults of Fae’ and perfectly described each group’s familial makeup. 

“It says that the Love-Dusters only had six main members…” Bog trailed off. “…and all of them are dead, damn.” Plum perked up.

“Any of them have kids?”

Marianne bit her lip a little and scanned the rest of the page.

“Yes! One of them had three.”

“Well, there you go! Find the kids, ask them which one chopped off their sister’s head, and then send off to the Forest-”

“Thanks for the help, Plum; but don’t tell me how to do mah job.” Bog cut her off and set down the book. Marianne stood up and moved there chair.

“That’s all we need. Thanks, Plum.” She smiled as Plum began to fade out.

“Anytime!” The mirror returned to its normal state.

Marianne set the chair down by the desk and stood next to Bog and Imp, who was writing down names and addresses.

“So what do we have?” She leaned over the book as Bog stood up, seeing the pictures of the three children: two females and one males.

“Her name was Faith.”

“The woman’s?” He nodded.

“She never married and she’s been on the street since her parents died.”

“Hmm.” She paused to watch Imp dip a stamp that read ‘DECEASED’ into ink and press it over Faith’s picture. Bog cracked his neck and looked at his partner.

“So now we need’te find her siblings and get some answers.” Marianne nodded.

“Where to first?” Bog picked up the piece of paper Imp was writing on and found the first address. 

“The Dusty Rose, South Bronx.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is interested in beta reading this, or just correcting any mistakes, just leave a comment and I'll get back to you asap!


End file.
